Sub 6

I hit a new PR yesterday— a 5:56 min/mile. I suppose if I take a hard look at my training lately, I would have to admit that I have earned it. It feels selfish and almost crazy to be this excited, but these days, with all the medical emergencies my family has been dealing with and the emotional strain it has placed on me, it’s a relief to have something to celebrate, even if I’m popping a metaphorical cork all by myself. Part of me thinks it’s possible that my basic urge to run away and knowing that’s not a choice has been redirected. Either way, I am bordering on shock and an embarrassing amount of pride in making this goal.

Running has been the one aspect of my life I have not neglected for the past weeks, but attaining my second goal has been on the back burner. I have been aiming for a 6.5 min/mile, but not actively pursuing it. There have been days I have run nice long loops, doing sprints here and there, and working through the worries that have made a prickly nest for themselves in my mind. But there was something different about yesterday.

I warmed up by jogging alongside a neighbor who was taking her morning walk. We chatted through the first song in my mix and when we had finished catching up, she waved me off. The slow warm up paid off. I picked up my pace easily, and decided to go for an 8 miler. I let my quads do the work on the steep hill down to Pebble Beach, then as the road leveled off, I ran softly in the sand.

I left the south end of town and took the long loop back along Marmion Way, not really paying much attention to the run, but moving along comfortably and at a good clip. Belle and Sebastian’s lyrics had me in a groove. “Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying” awakened in me the knowledge that no matter how hard things get, I’m in it for the long haul. The inner strength that is propelling me through all the necessary obligations combined with a new strength I have been experiencing during my runs and that I’m chalking it up to all the P90-X explosive jumping on my cross-training days.

I pressed up the hill on Old Garden Road and headed downtown. A sudden, strong urge to really run came over me. Not to run at my regular pace, not to sprint with an end in plain sight, but the kind of run that’s a mixture of adrenaline, desire, and surrender. An instinctive will to move as fast as I could. So I let loose and pushed hard. The result? A mile in 5 minutes 56 seconds. That’s high school fast! 10 mph! It was wonderful to feel that kind of success on a day when I expected nothing more than the ordinary from myself.